


Stay Close

by KoolJack1



Series: Hannibal Kink Meme Prompt Fills [12]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Biting, Cannibalism, Crying, Cuddling, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Serial Killers, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, instability, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2017-12-25 15:14:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/954628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoolJack1/pseuds/KoolJack1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will loves Hannibal, despite what he is. Hannibal loves Will, because of what he is. They've learned to make it work after they left together, finally not alone.</p><p>Guilt follows Will Graham, and Hannibal can't fight what he is; but he can try to ease Will's mind however Will needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hannibal is what he is, Will had learned that there is no way to change that. The man can not control what he does, and he has no urge to try. Love is blind, he'd heard that his whole life. He'd been blind to Hannibal's actions, until the days he suddenly wakes up and realizes that the man he kisses eats people- people he kills. The man that cooks for him, cooks the people he kills- for both of them to eat. Those thoughts always float around in his mind, but only surface on the days Hannibal can't spend as much time with him. The unbalance of companionship and guilt is enough to choke him, the feeling that these people are dying because he can't turn in their killer threatens to suck the life from his beating heart.

That's what happens this morning, after Hannibal leaves for an early meeting- leaving Will with fresh cooked sausage and eggs. He stares at the meat, picturing it taking on human form. He can nearly see the person it came from- hie can nearly watch them die.

His stomach turns at what is already digested and he stands quickly and hurries to the bathroom. He vomits food he'd eaten since he met Hannibal- food that has long since been used up by his body, and tears rush down his cheeks.

Not turning Hannibal in is almost just as bad as killing these people himself- if not worse. He has the power to end it and save countless lives, yet he lifts a fork and eats damn well knowing what's on his plate. Knowing what Hannibal had to do to get that meal. What does that make him?

For a brief second, he considers calling Jack and turning Hannibal in now while he is gone. The idea is gone as quickly as it came, Will can see both sides of the coin. He can feel Hannibal's inner drive to do what he does- the deep rooted urges that he conceals so well. He tried once, Hannibal had stayed with him for nearly three days straight upon Will insisting that if he stayed close, he could go without killing.

By the end of the third day, Hannibal's urges called to him so fully he hardly responded to anything else. He never told Will, but Will could feel his discomfort and repressing. He'd laid in bed with Will wrapped around him, stroking his chest and hair in an attempt to sooth the discomfort that settled in the older man's stomach. Will didn't understand it, but he felt it. After a few hours of Hannibal laying quietly with his eyes closed, but not asleep- Will gently kissed his ear and whispered "it's okay."

Lecter's body tensed briefly before he stood slowly, looking down at Will with cold eyes before leaving the room. He'd never seen such coldness in the other man's eyes. That night, Will's nightmares engulfed him until he woke up sweating to the smell of pancakes. He stumbled into the kitchen to find Hannibal making pancakes and eggs with fresh fruit. The older man smiled at him warmly, the coldness gone from his eyes. He didn't serve meat that morning.

The memory had some now led Will into their bedroom, gun in hand. He'd given the okay for Hannibal to kill someone that night to ease the urge. Taking a human life had become something he was okay with regularly, and guilt seeped into his soul. He didn't even know what he was doing when he raised the gun to his temple. He was panting, tears streaming freely down his face as he cried for every life that was taken by his loved one that he could have saved, but instead chose to be selfish. It was only fair, he die now after letting all those innocent lives be taken so he didn't have to sleep alone 

"Will..." The familiar voice called to him from the doorway, and Will opened his eyes to find Hannibal staring at him. Lecter's lips were pulled into a tight line, his eyebrows pulled together.

Will laughed humorously, "Either you or me has to go, and since you can't help what you are- its only fair that its me." Will stared at the other man, curious at the look of deepened sadness that settled in his features.

"You're suicidal." Hannibal said quietly, taking a step closer. "Taking your own life won't bring back someone else's- it doesn't make it any better. It won't save lives in the future, Will. None of this is your fault."

Will smiled hauntingly, "I can't live with the knowledge of what you do some days- what I accept that you do so that I don't have to be without you."

Hannibal steps closer, "I fight my nature every day to be with you because I want to. It's not in my nature to spend time with someone as I do with you, I've never craved the closeness before, I won't let you take yourself away from me."

Will barks a laugh, "it sounds like you own me."

Hannibal doesn't respond, but quickly grabs the gun and turns it away from them both. Will sobs then, dropping to his knees as his legs give out. "Did you really have an early meeting?" Will whimpers into Hannibal's shoulder when the other man crouches and hugs him. Silence follows the question and Will cries out again and squeezes Hannibal to him.

The air in the room is suddenly too thick, and Will struggles to inhale. His body goes weak against Hannibal's, tears rushing down his face as he chokes for air and thrashes about. Hannibal has him on his back quickly, his large hands restraining Will's, the rest of his body laying over Will's to hold him still. "Calm down, love. It's alright," he hushes gently into Will's ear; Will feels a warm mouth press into his neck and he struggles harder. "Please," Hannibal whispers, "I love you."  
Will sobs in air, his body going slack on the floor until Hannibal releases some pressure on his arms and he brings them up to tangle in Hannibal's hair. The older man's forhead falls onto his shoulder and Will turns his head to bite into the skin of Hannibal's neck. It's hard enough that Hannibal tenses against him, but Will holds his hair tightly to keep him in place. He bites harder until he hears Hannibal make a quiet noise, then harder again until his arms give out and he presses fully against Will. More pressure and Hannibal pants his name into his ear and Will releases him. Seeing the dark red mark on his pale skin reminds Will that Hannibal is human too, a troubled man that deserves his life too. A human that can feel some sort of pain.

Shakily, Hannibal kneels and hoists Will onto the bed. Hannibal doesn't protest when Will physically hurts him, allowing Will to scratch at him and bite him in his times if distress. Guilt floods him again, this time because he sees the mark already starting to bruise as Hannibal strips out of his shirt before coming up behind him on the bed.

Strong arms circle his and Will sobs brokenly, listening to Hannibal breathe quietly behind him. The large hands stroke his chest and hips, one of the hands seeking his and holding it tightly. "I'm sorry," he whimpers. Squeezing the hand tightly, Hannibal kisses his shoulder.

"Please do not be, it is alright Will." Will doesn't feel alright, but then again when did he ever.


	2. Chapter 2

"It's Sunday, perhaps we should take it easy for the rest of the day. I will prepare dinner in an hour and we can talk," Hannibal whispered quietly behind him, his arm tightening around Will's waist and pulling him closer. Graham's fingers gently rub the back of Hannibal's hand, turning it slightly to trace the bluefish vains in his wrists. Hannibal's tense body slowly relaxes, his hand going slack as Will brushes his finger tips over the paling scars on Lecter's forearm. He'd fought Hannibal on more than one occasion, but Lecter never fought back. Days would pass, even weeks sometimes, and Will would be fine. Until suddenly he wasn't and Hannibal absorbed all of his aggression. It never sat right with Will, that the man was a cold blooded killer but wouldn't raise a finger to Will when the man screamed at him and scratched and bit him until he bled.

Tears of frustration roll from his eyes, and Hannibal inhales deeply behind him, "I do not enjoy what sadness and tears does to your scent, why are you crying?" Lecter questions gently, and Will sniffs and turns to face him. Hannibal's face is unemotional and unreadable as always, but over the past year and a half Will had learned to read the man before him.

"You kill people and eat them while I do nothing about it, and you come home and I abuse you." He means it seriously, but Hannibal's thin lips turn up into an amused smirk.

"You eat them too," he reminds, eyes glittering slightly, "And I allow you only superficial wounds, they heal. You have no desire to seriously injure me or our arrangement wouldn't work. You have to express your aggression, I understand that very well." Will crushes their lips together at the statement, desperate to feel Hannibal's skin on his own. Desperate to hear the man whimper at his touches and come apart under his hands. Will remembers the first time he took charge, forcing Hannibal face down on the bed and digging his nails into his hips so hard they left bloody arches and hand shaped bruises behind. Lecter made no move to protest, only whined quietly when Will entered him roughly, tightening a fist in the hair at the base of his skull and fucking him roughly.

The memory spurs him and Will moans into the kiss and shoves a hand down the front of Hannibal's pants and squeezes. Hannibal tenses and pulls away, shaking his head, "I walked in the room and found you with a gun to your head, Will. None of this until we figure out what is to be done about that."

Will chuckles humorously and reaches again for Hannibal's fly, "Nothing needs to be done, I didn't pull the trigger."

Hannibal's hand catches his and when Will looks up, he's frowning, "Would you have pulled it if I didn't walk in when I did? I know at times you get overwhelmed, which I accept, but putting a loaded firearm to your head is a declaration all in itself. Gun shots to the head are very rarely unsuccessful suicide attempts, and you'd know just how to shoot yourself. You had no way of knowing I was coming home, you didn't predict I'd intervene which leads me to believe you didn't intend to put it down."

Will reaches to smooth a finger over Hannibal's worried brow, "What's the difference between you murdering others and me murdering myself? Why is one okay and not the other?"

"The difference is that you murdering yourself takes you away from me, me murdering others does not change anything for us. Murder, the choice is someone else's. Suicide, the choice is yours. Most people fight for their lives, I've seen it on ,ore occasions than I can count. They want to live so bad they fight until their last breath despite the choice being made for them. Then there's you, wanting to willingly give up your life while others fight to preserve their own. For once I'm making the choice for someone and deciding they live; it's the one right choice I've made, keeping you alive. Safe from both myself and yourself, and anyone else of course."

There's a look in Hannibal's eyes that is the closest to emotion Will had seen. There's a pure desire to love Will and be loved back by him. There's a fear of being alone and lonely, Will watches it spark behind the typically neutral eyes. "You're keeping me safe for all the selfish reasons, my life is all about what you want now," and Will knows instantly that he'd said the wrong thing, or at least the right thing the wrong way, because the emotion is sucked back from his eyes and his face cools over again. Tension returns to every muscle in his body and Hannibal mentally retreats from him. Will swallows roughly and shakes his head, "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"It was you who once said the Ripper was a sadistic psychopath, so how do you draw the conclusion that I have feelings that your words are capable of affecting? Rather contradicting," it's the most childish thing he'd ever heard leave Hannibal's mouth, and he frowns, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. It's a sign that Will's words and actions take their toll on Hannibal's mental state. Will has felt the tight tension in his body and picked up on waves of stress resulting from Will's outbursts. He makes Hannibal edgy, the irony of it is almost funny.

"That was before. You hid any emotion besides passion very well, you lead us where you wanted us. I couldn't see you well enough to know the truth because I couldn't admit it to myself. When you asked me to leave with you, I wanted to put a bullet between your eyes until I saw the look on your face. You _wanted_ me to come with you, and you haven't hurt me yet."

"Are you implying you're my exception?" His tone is light and teasing, his face softened again.

"Unless when I think you're off getting dinner, you're actually fucking someone else; it would appear that's exactly what I am." Hannibal winces at his choice of words but for once decides to let the curse word slide and lean forward to kiss him gently.

"Swear to me you won't pull that again. If the urge arises tell me and we will handle it together. I believe walking in on your dead body would be the first scene that would make me ill, I'm not sure what I'd do," Hannibal whispers against his lips, and Will's fingers find his nipple and he rolls it between his fingers. Lecter's mouth opened in a surprised gasp and Will invades his mouth and nudges him to lay on his back.

Hannibal always seemed more eager to take him, Will always sensed slight hesitation whenever their rolls were reversed. The pleasure being reversed and directed on him seemed to make the older man uneasy, he often tried to minimize his reactions until Will had him crying out in pleasure. He nipped at Lecter's lips, nuzzling his cheek in apology. "I love you," he breaths, latching his lips right to the steady pulse under Hannibal's jaw. Hannibal's long fingers grip at Will's arms when his mouth moves lower and ghosts a breath over the dark mark left by the bite. He licks his lips and resists the urge to bite the spot again, to mark Hannibal as his deeply enough that it scars. Instead he leans back to see Hannibal's eyes are closed tightly, anticipating that Will would bite into the abused flesh again.

Yet he makes no protest to the possibility. "Why do you allow me to hurt you? It's like you expect it now." Hannibal's dark eyes flutter opened and there's something in them that doesn't sit right with Will.

"If you're suggesting we are in an abusive relationship, it may just be one of the most humorous things you've ever said."

Will doesn't answer so Hannibal continues, "You must understand that if I decided to control this, it would make you terribly unhappy and stress our relationship. It would result in me hurting you, and that's the last thing I want. I have no desire to make this harder than it is, despite that its in my nature to control. I try to let you do as you need and be who you are without influence. If you need someone to relieve aggression, I can be that person. I can be whatever you need."

Will presses his weight down and smiles at him, pressing a kiss to his lips, "It makes me sad that its so hard for you to handle us being together, that you have to fight your nature for it to happen." Will whispers, sitting back and tugging Lecter's arm until the man understands and rolls onto his belly, then Will straddles his back and pushes his thumbs into Hannibal's shoulder blades. "You're always so tense and on edge." He lets his fingers find a solid knot behind Hannibal's neck and he rubs it deeply, smiling slightly at the other man's quiet groan.

"It has to make you unhappy," he says sadly, easing up the pressure slightly when Hannibal flinches as he prods a twisted muscle. "You don't like being vulnerable, but if you trust me and let me take care of you in return we can balance." Willa's fingers trace a scar on Hannibal's side and he presses feather light kisses to the dip of his spine, pleased when the body beneath him shudders slightly. "Don't mute your pleasure because you're uncomfortable expressing it. You don't even moan when you cum," he whispers huskily into the shell of Hannibal's ear before he bites it and presses his growing erection against the man's backside.

Still he gets no response, so he works to tug Hannibal's slacks down his legs without unbuttoning them, surprised Hannibal lifts his hips slightly to accomidate. He leans over and grabs a tube from the bedside table and lubes his fingers before pressing it between his cheeks. Automatically, Hannibal goes ridged and Will hushes him, "Don't fight it all the time."

He strokes his back until he relaxes, gently opening up the tightened muscle with his finger before adding a second. He twists his wrists like he learned from Hannibal and Lecter's body jolts with pleasure and a quiet gasp. "Turn over," he whispers, and tension returns.

"Will-"

"It'll feel even better on your back," he insists, not surprised when Hannibal slowly pivotes under him to comply. They've never discussed why Hannibal doesn't feel comfortable on his back, but Will suspects its too personal for him. Too much emotion. Hannibal's fingers work at Will's shirt while he cups the weight of Hannibal's balls in his palm and rolls them. The fingers falter slightly on the buttons, and Will relents to undo his pants and push them off just as Hannibal frees him from his shirt. Will doesn't waste any more time, he slicks himself and presses his throbbing member where his fingers had been moments before. He absorbs the beautiful grimace that melts into a look of pleasure as it crosses Hannibal's features.

Hannibal had taken Will more times then they could count, but he could count on one hand how many times he'd gotten to do this. It still hurt and was foreign to him, Will was sure of it despite his lack of verbal conformation. He rocks into him gently, pressing all the way in before pulling out and angling for the bundle of nerves. Hannibal all but whimpers and Will presses their chests together and kisses him as he does it again, swallowing the moan he gets in response. It's beautiful, hearing Hannibal come apart, "Make all the noise you want," Will breaths into his ear, pushing in as hard as he could unexpectedly. Hannibal clenches around him and cries out, his fingers clutching Will's ribs when he decides to pound into him. He watches the pain flicker across his face less and less until he's panting for air. He leans back, pulling Hannibal's hand down and wrapping it around his dripping cock. Lecter understands and fists himself jerkily, and Will watches the cum splatter against his belly when Hannibal cries out again and tenses, and its enough to push him over the edge.

He lays bonelessly ontop of Hannibal's sweaty frame, stroking the damp hair on the older man's head while they catch their breath. He only moves when Hannibal shifts onto his side under him, and instead of laying in front of him, he goes behind him and encases him in his arms instead. He'd never held the other man before, but Hannibal relaxes back against him and Will kisses the back of his neck. "Shower," Hannibal mumbles tiredly, and Will chuckles.

"Soon. Are you alright?"

"I should be asking you that, I didn't have a gun to my head an hour ago."

"Did you ever consider killing yourself?" He'd wondered the question before, but was always afraid of the answer.

"That's horrible bed conversation," Lecter grumbles.

"Sorry, for that and for earlier. I will come to you when I'm...feeling guilty."


End file.
